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ximilialog2024-03-09 09:01 pm
STATION FINAL
● ● ● S T A T I O N F I N A L
The halls of the station are strangely quiet. The team has lost members now — there are less of you than there used to be, and here at the end of the line, following the very last mission, the absence of all your missing companions is felt even more acutely. Phantom footsteps haunt the rooms where some of those voices will never be heard again.
All of this brings the return of a melancholy feeling, and it’s as if the station itself feels it too — the sterility of the too-clean walls feels more stark; the mural down the length of the corridor gives way to nostalgia and longing; and the quiet seems to hint at the bittersweet sorrow of many more partings to come. It all sits heavy in the air: waiting, expectant. You are all waiting for something to happen — sooner, or later.
And all through the increasing turmoil and the realization that you are all at the apex of your journey on the Ximilia, the doors to the North Wing remain closed.
Behind them, the orbs wait, too.
Despite the strange atmosphere aboard the station, you should take this opportunity to rest and gather your bearings — get some sleep in your own bed, eat your favourite foods, have an actual shower, and maybe wash off all the sand from the Plains still stuck to you. If you ignore the warning bells chiming in the back of your head, steadily ringing louder and louder, this might feel like any regular downtime between missions.
1.0 The first day back passes in an in-between state, a limbo of sorts: waiting, but not quite knowing for what. There are ways to pass that time, of course — the kitchens have been very recently re-stocked, so those inclined to spend a few hours making fresh pasta or letting the mouth-watering scent of lemon muffins fill the room are more than free to do so. Or perhaps you head to the Sunlight room instead, to enjoy the slowly unfurling spring in the oh-so-real scenery; to hear the birds chirping and warbling; to watch the flowers waking up after a long season of frost, tilting their heads towards the simulated sun. It is like a literal breath of fresh air, especially after the endless dunes of Go’ama… and maybe something that can help you feel calmer, and more at home. Or maybe you’re spending the day with your friends and loved ones within the team, holed up in one of your rooms, or gathering all together to watch one final movie or play games — here, now, when you still can.
2.0 But it’s hard to ignore the constant warning that has burrowed itself into your every waking moment now — it’s the anticipation of knowing that something is going to happen, and whether it is what Viveca has warned you about or something else entirely … it feels serious enough for Degar to have withdrawn to guard the orbs, and serious enough to warrant this wait, the hours growing longer and longer without any clear answers when you might have been so sure the orbs would be fully unified the moment you got back to the station. For those who are not content to simply wait it out, figuring out a plan to deal with whatever is coming your way might be the way you choose to be productive: whether it’s through discussing strategies, compiling the spells you’ll need, and making sure you and your teammates are properly armed — though whether you trust yourself enough for that … that is another matter altogether.
It doesn’t happen all at once. It’s a slow, intentional switching on of your fellow teammate beside you; a shift in mood as you pass each other in the corridor; or a strange thing that they say while you’re just trying to enjoy your biscuits and tea. After eighteen missions aboard the Ximilia, and a clearer insight into the crew before yours, you know that the orbs are capable of corruption and manipulation, turning the best person into their own nightmare.
Whether you’re watching this happen to your teammates, or you’re feeling the orb’s effects on you, the feelings of unease amongst the crew builds and intensifies to the point of threat and fear, and then … irregardless if you’re under the orb’s influence or not, you all feel one thing burrowing itself within you like a sharp, cold blade beneath your ribcage: you feel unsafe.
3.0 For those under the orb’s effects: The ease at which you feel something slide around your mind like thick oil, rendering your thoughts sluggish and delayed, allows your subconscious to fill in the gaps with haunting visions and hallucinations, courtesy of your interaction with the orb that had once been Jial Bryn. You’ve met that particular orb before — when a great eye pulled the strings of a small, once idyllic town called Amaryllis Grove. You don’t even fight it; you don’t want to.
Now the power from that orb lingers inside of you, twisting your thoughts and prodding at your aggression and guilt and sorrow, any negative emotion that it can tug at. You might suddenly become uncharacteristically angry, or perhaps your worst nightmares suddenly feel real, visions playing across your eyes, causing you to lash out at your fellow crewmates — maybe with a warning at first, but eventually a verbal lashing isn’t good enough. You can’t help yourself, after all; you just want it all to stop. Your fellow crew are trying to keep you miserable. They want to take the power for themselves, take it before you can, and they will keep torturing you until you crumble. Amidst your misery, the answer becomes very clear: if you can get to the North Wing, where the power is at its greatest and most potent, and free collection of orbs that are trapped behind fortified walls, you will finally get exactly what you want, whether it’s relief from the nightmares haunting you, or your greatest desires realized. But you need to do it fast, and you need to do it alone. You can’t trust anyone.
4.0 For those who are not under the orb’s effects: You’re still yourself despite the increasing level of distrust surrounding you, with Viveca’s words still ringing in your ears: Trust no one. You start to see its effect on the team, the way people have isolated themselves from others. Stupid, petty fights are quicker to spark than they ever used to. Butting heads results in squabbles (whether verbal or physical) that you feel the responsibility to step in and mediate.
But you haven’t given up on your team. How could you, after all? After everything you have all been through? You could still get through to them. You first begin to notice it within the familiar glimpse in their stare, their recognition of you in between their raised fists and uncharacteristic aggression. It’s enough to give you hope that you still have time; and no, it isn’t much, but it is something.
Perhaps you will try to remind them of a memory about themselves, a story they told you and only you, a confession that became a bond neither of you have ever shared with anyone else, not even from your home-world. Perhaps physical touch (if you can avoid retaliation) is the key to bringing your teammate back, whether it’s to shake their shoulders, or to grip their hand, or even to pin them down with your own weight. If all else fails, you may have no choice but to fight them. Maybe it will only take one of you, or maybe help requires a small group — whatever it is that you attempt to do, you’ll need to keep them from hurting you and your fellow teammates, and you’ll need to keep them away from the orbs in the North Wing.
F Y I
• If you have questions about any of the prompts, please direct them HERE.
• If you want Viveca and Degar to offer their help to stop one of the affected crew members in a thread, please sign up for that HERE. Please note that you need to have a top level or an ongoing thread to link for the signup.
• The submissions regarding the corruption effects are open and can be submitted HERE.
• And finally, your soundtrack for this log: ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪
no subject
Thought you'd never ask.
[And unless he manages to dodge in time, he'll find himself slamming back into the door. The door that's blocking her from the orbs.]
no subject
[The false warmth pushed into her name as it slips from his lips, just before he goes crashing in to the solid door to the North Wing. It knows everything, and as he stands against, shadows bleeding in from all over the station to cover the floor. Crawling up the walls around them, it smiles a bloody smile.]
Still sore about Newton?
[Because she's trying to stop him (it, them) and that will not stand. Not when victory is so close. His fingers twist together and the shadows climb her, swarming over her body, seeking to slip in to her mouth and fill her with darkness.]
TW: Choking
[Daisy says sharply, staring down at him as he to get his feet. There's a sense of relief at finally having an outlet for the anger that's been building the last few days. She's so focused on that feeling, of being so close to the orbs that she swears she can feel them. Hear them calling to her. Nothing is going to stop this.
Not even him.
Except she doesn't notice the shadows climbing up her body, until they fill her mouth and nose. She tries to gasp for air, but she finds herself unable to. Choking her. He's choking her. Seeing red, Daisy raises her other hand and slams him with enough force that there might actually be a dent in the wall.]
no subject
Not yet, but I am so close.
[Just behind that door. Hiding from him, but he will get it. Power surges and the darkness is a living thing at their feet, writhing like snakes and with a twist of his hands, they clamp around Daisy's wrists. Spreading her eagle in mid-air.]
Go back to bed. It's not safe here.
no subject
She’s about to lift her hand when both of her wrists are suddenly outstretched on either side of her, and she’s lifted into the air.]
No. It’s not.
[For him.
She doesn’t need her hands free to use her powers, and there’s a burst of power outwards in an attempt to break herself from the hold his shadows on her.]
tw: eyes?
It all happens so fast, but he steps forward, hands reaching (Aleksander hears the call, the darkness that flows in, helpless to stop it) and this time, they go for Daisy's eyes. Burrowing in to her eye-sockets, leaving her blind.]
I'll tell them that you were trying to break in to the North Wing. [Lies, heaped on top of lies] I was merely saving all of us. You could not be trusted- [His hands fall, but the darkness stays in her and he forms the Cut between spread fingers, ready to cut the door down.] Just look at the hole you made in the door. How could I not think you were possessed...
[Enough would believe him, and he could find the rest of them. Find the orbs, free them]
no subject
She doesn't need her vision to feel the vibrations emanating off of him.]
That's exactly what I'm going to do.
[She confirms through gritted teeth, both hands raising outward towards him. She can feel it, even now, how limited her powers are here. But she manages to manipulate enough of the vibrations around them to gather as much force as she can to throw him hard into the door. Again.
He's trying to stop her, and she won't let him.]
no subject
The smooth surface does nothing to blunt the impact and he feels ribs breaking, the bone shattering, grinding together as he heaves another breath.
(Still sinking, the real Aleksander screams in to the void)]
Are you admitting it, Daisy? Are you the traitor we've been looking for?
[Could she be? The door to the North Wing looks dented, almost breaking under the blow and his head tilts, hands out-]
What are you?
[Are you me?, he almost asks, are we us?]
no subject
I’m the person whose going to free the orbs, and you’re not going to get in my way.
[She uses her powers to feel for him, feel the broken ribs in his body and attempts to break them even more.]
no subject
But I wanted to be the one to free them.
[She could be bluffing, but the blade disappears as he twists his fingers and the darkness vanishes from her eyes.]
How much do you want it?
[As he takes one step to the side, leaving the door exposed. Pain blooms from broken bones, and it doesn't matter. Pain is temporary, the orbs are forever.]
no subject
They're on the same side? Her eyes don't leave him as he steps off to the side, despite the urgency to get to the orbs growing. Was this some kind of trap?]
I want it more than anything, or anyone here.
[Including him.]
no subject
[Him, the real him, hears it and if he had hands, they would be clenched in to tight fists. The echoes of old conversations and the past they shared.
But this him only smiles, stepping aside with a smile.]
Go on, show me how much you really want this, Daisy.
no subject
no subject
Well done.
[He steps closer to her, hands already twisting together. Calling to all of the darkness inside the station and out among the stars, the empty and desolate places that surrounded them.]
Now, let's get them out of there.
[A Cut flies from his fingers, slicing through steel-walls and cabinets like a warm knife through butter and he holds out a hand to her.]
no subject